


And the Blood of the Phoenix Runs the River Dry

by The_Jester_Erebus10



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abduction, Bloodplay, Captivity, M/M, Vampire Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5668585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jester_Erebus10/pseuds/The_Jester_Erebus10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dumbledore's death, Snape takes Harry with him to use for his own mysterious purposes. Soon, Harry is caught up in a tangled web of secrets, deceit, and betrayal as he slowly comes to terms with his imprisonment. THIS IS A WIP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First original installment was Beta read by StarDuchess

VAMPIRE ATTACK IN HOGSMEADE

Usually, Harry didn't read the Daily Prophet, especially since the Ministry had their fingers in the pockets of the editors, but something about the headline caught his eye as he saw Hermione flipping through the pages. 

"What's that?"

"Oh, a vampire killing in...well, Hogsmeade." 

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. As if facing Voldemort wasn't enough. "Well, at least it isn't Voldemort," he joked, but he still felt unnerved. 

Hermione cleared her throat. "What worries me the most is that it's usually Knockturn Alley that harbors such dark creatures, but Hogsmeade--"

"It's so close to Hogwarts," Harry finished. "We have to look into this."

Hermione turned to look at him sharply. "You can't save everyone, Harry, and I'm sure the Ministry--"

Ron sat down with a plop next to Hermione. 

"Hm. Vampire attack, huh. Wonder if it's someone we knew?"

Harry's eyes widened as Hermione's narrowed. "Ronald, despite your casual attitude, you actually have a good point." Ron nodded in agreement, grinning despite the dismal subject matter. "If the vampire attacked in Hogsmeade, he could very well be closer or even in Hogwarts right now."

"And imagine...all this young virgin blood that vampires are so obsessed with—hey!" Ron flinched as Hermione hit him with the paper.

"We should look into this. Seriously, 'Mione," Harry said. 

A flash of black sparked in the corner of Harry's eye and he let out a long winded sigh. With someone like Snape around, it was hard to get any important investigating done. 

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. Actually studying for your exams now, are we? And, ah, the ever annoying Miss Granger," Hermione blushed as Harry and Ron stood up, their faces red with anger.

"Vampire attack in Hogsmeade. My my, saving the wizarding world yet again, are you, Potter? You'd have to have a lot more than luck and useless heroics on your side to face one of the Undead. Hm? Pity." 

With a swoop of black robes, Snape was gone. 

"What a slimy git," Ron seethed, as Hermione went to a book shelf, perusing the area and pulling out a dusty tome.

Harry sat silently. What if Snape was right?

Hermione buried her nose in the book. "Blood Brothers?" Harry said, frowning. 

"Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst Vampires, Harry, really. We met Eldred Worple at Slughorn's party!"

"A party I wasn't invited to," Ron muttered under his breath as Hermione sighed.

"Remember, the Slug Club? Eldred brought Sanguini? The vampire? Honestly, Harry..."

Harry shrugged, but couldn't seem to shake off the cold chill that traveled down his spine. 

+++  
Anger, hatred, and betrayal. The feelings tore through Harry like a wild animal, rending and tearing, biting and clawing until he felt as if, for a moment, he was a shadow of who he once was. He imagined the shattered remains of his hate filled heart flying through the starless night, floating up to meet the green light of the Dark Mark that still hovered over the tower. 

Harry lay panting on the ground, gazing up at the man he despised, the man who was the boy he had trusted, the boy he had relied on, even looked up to. He always hated Snape, but Dumbledore...Dumbledore trusted this man, and the treacherous snake just—just coldly threw a killing curse like it was nothing and--  
Harry staggered to his feet and raised his wand again. He wanted to see Snape writhe in pain on the ground, twitching and shrieking, like one of those spiders Barty Crouch Junior Cursed, like a spider he could stomp and crush underneath his shoe…"Cru-"

But that moment never came. Snape lunged at Harry, his eyes feral and burning brands into his soul. He thrashed as the other man grabbed both of his arms and dragged him closer, closer still…

And now Harry's body was flush against Snape's, those slender yet steely arms holding him in place as he was struggling…he was a fly caught in the spider's web, god, just like a spider, Snape was, and Harry was sure he'd have the upper hand. He felt himself being lifted up, and suddenly he was being cradled in Snape's arms, crushed up against his hard chest as the other man's heart thumped loudly in his ears. Then Snape started to run farther into the forest, surprisingly swift for someone who was carrying such a burden.  
Harry panicked. His blood was churning underneath the surface, hot ocean waves of red pounding through his veins relentlessly. His own heart felt like a woodpecker, trying to stab its way out of his chest.

He was being abducted.

Harry screamed, willing for someone, anyone, to hear him. Snape was going to take him to Voldemort, he knew it…

A surge of fear and fury, of pure adrenaline, shot through Harry. He started to struggle again, craning his neck to bite through the layers of clothes on Snape's arm. He heard Snape snarl breathlessly, then there was a crack, and the forest was gone, replaced with a line of dingy houses. Dim yellow light streamed from the lamp post Snape stood by, and Harry took in a shuddering breath only to choke on the stench coming from the nearby river. He buried his head closer to Snape's chest and inhaled another shallow, shaking breath, not wanting to breathe in the fetid air. Snape smelled surprisingly pleasant, so warm and clean. For a brief moment, Harry forgot his hatred, his anger, all the horror...  
He shivered from the cold and curled closer, and his world was nothing but the scent of lemongrass and spice, and an intoxicating heat radiating off of a hard, lean body.  
Then Snape surged forward, Harry still clutched tightly to his chest, and everything came rushing back like the tide. Oh god, this man, this murderous traitor-

Snape's betrayal hit him in the stomach.

The Half-blood Prince, the boy who helped him so much, the prodigy…Harry started to struggle once more, but Snape's grip only tightened. The man was strong, and try as he might, Harry couldn't free himself. Suddenly Snape stopped, and Harry heard him whisper something. A door creaked open and Snape stepped inside a small house, but Harry couldn't see much of it in the surrounding darkness.

Another spell, softly spoken, and the door slammed shut as Harry was deposited on the floor. He looked up at Snape, who regarded him with an amused expression on his pallid face. Before Harry could reach into his pocket to retrieve his wand, Snape flicked his own wand at Harry wordlessly, and Harry found himself floating up the narrow staircase, down a hallway, and into another room, where he was dropped unexpectedly. Harry cried out in shock as he fell, yet he landed not on the floor, but on a mattress, albeit not the softest one. Harry turned around to face Snape, who was staring at him, his face unreadable.

Harry was instantly consumed with anger and he spat, his saliva hitting the side of Snape's face and sliding down, leaving a shining, wet path like a snail's trail as it dripped off the man's cheek.

Snape's black eyes flashed dangerously and he waved his wand at Harry again. Instantly, Harry felt his body stiffen completely as if he were a wooden board: Petrificus Totalus. As he lay immobile on the bed, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Snape grab something from inside a drawer. There was a clanking, rattling sound as Snape approached him, fastening whatever the thing was around Harry's neck and lifting the spell. Harry raised his hands to his neck. It was a collar. He whipped his head around to see his former professor attach the long chain that was connected to the collar to a bed post. Harry let out a strangled cry as fear flooded him, and he tugged at the metal links frantically. He glanced up as Snape stepped back and observed him thoughtfully as Harry struggled against the relentless chain. Harry stared up at him, trying to convey as much hatred in his gaze as possible, but as he looked into Snape's eyes, something in them made him freeze. The black orbs glinted like the sea at midnight, reflecting the moon and stars. Harry was falling, falling into them…he was trapped in a dark ocean, surrounded by the obsidian depths, oh, he was being suffocated by them, but he couldn't will himself to break his gaze…

"Cease," Snape ordered, and his voice was smooth and dark like melted chocolate. Harry immediately dropped his hands and sat on the bed obediently, while his mind screamed in defiance.

"Why?" Harry felt the anger rushing back like a tsunami. "Tell me why you did it, then. Why me? And why Dumbledore?" He was yelling now, his voice cracking slightly. "Tell me why…Snivellus."

Instantly Harry regretted uttering that word, but it was too late.

Snape hissed, and before Harry could anticipate the man's intentions, he was roughly grabbed and shoved off the bed. Harry scrambled to his feet as fast as he could. Snape stood in front of him, so close that their bodies were mere inches apart. Harry's heart thundered in his ears as he looked up at the taller man.

Snape leaned in towards him, his greasy hair brushing up against Harry's cheek as he whispered in his ear, warm breath caressing Harry's flushed skin as he unfastened the collar around Harry's neck and let it drop to the ground.

"Hmph. Foolish boy."

Snape stepped back, opened his mouth wide, and bared his yellowed teeth. Harry stared in horror as he watched a pair of long, sharp fangs elongate. Oh god…SNAPE was the vampire?

Snape closed his mouth with a sneer.

Despite his anger, Harry could feel himself trembling slightly. He fervently hoped that Snape wouldn't notice. Snape, however, smirked and licked his lips slowly, almost obscenely, staring at Harry with such unconcealed hunger it was as if he planned to devour him alive.

"You know, Potter," Snape murmured, that velveteen midnight voice snaking through Harry and causing more tremors to run amok through his body, "I've always wondered if Gryffindors tasted as appetizing as they looked."

And suddenly Harry found himself being pulled closer to the vampire until there was no space between them. Snape's scent filled him once again, the warm, lemony smell of his skin, the rich and layered musk intoxicating him as if it were an aphrodisiac itself. Hermione did mention something in her research...Ther...Thrall. Thrall, that was it. A vampire's scent, a vampire's touch...it was all to lure the quarry in, make them seem more pleasing to the victim so they forgot all about the monster that it truly was.

Then he remembered what was happening, that he was prey, Snape's prey, and was about to become the man's next meal. Harry thrashed wildly as Snape's wiry arms encased him, and he cried out in terror but no one could save him…he started to struggle again, but his body was so close to Snape's that he only succeeded in rubbing up against him. Please, god, no…if he had to die, he didn't want it to be like this…it wasn't supposed to end this way…

"Please." To Harry's own disgust, the words came out as a plea. He was begging.

Gryffindors didn't beg.

But it was too late now.

"Please…please, professor, no…"

Lips as soft as rose petals parted on the flesh of Harry's neck, followed by the feeling of something very sharp pressing into him. Harry was paralyzed with fear. He didn't have anymore strength left to fight Snape off. He could only stand and pray silently that his death would be swift. As the blood flowed out of him and into Snape, he began to feel light headed. He felt his knees buckle, then his body was pushed back on the bed with Snape settling on top of him, the man's fangs still buried in Harry's throat.

Finally, Snape withdrew, and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He whispered a spell and suddenly the wounds on Harry's neck closed up.

Snape bent over Harry again, licking every trace of blood from his throat.

"Mmm. Absolutely delicious," Snape breathed against Harry's throat, and lifted himself up. He picked up the collar from the floor and refastened it around Harry's neck before he stepped out of the room, closing the door shut behind him.

Hazily, Harry stared up at the ceiling, grateful that Snape had spared him. The loss of blood had rendered him exhausted, and his eyes became heavy lidded as sleep overtook him. He floated away, caught up in visions of deadly green flashes and Dark Marks, while fiery anger scorched his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus watched the boy sleep, still savoring the lingering taste of his blood upon his own lips. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the "Chosen One," was laid out for him like some sort of delectable feast, tempting and taunting him. Chained and helpless, the boy was the virgin sacrifice to the dragon, innocence exuding from every pore. The power that he had over Potter was maddening. He wanted more--he wanted to conquer, to dominate.

To own.

He wanted to devour Potter whole until nothing was left of him, until the boy was completely and utterly his. And he had no idea why he felt about him in such a way.   
Severus sat down on the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts. This was not supposed to have happened. Potter should be safe and sound at Hogwarts, not chained to Severus' bed. Yet his rigid self-restraint had snapped when Potter dared to try and use his own inventions against him…mocked him, called him coward…and his hunger consumed him as he had looked down upon the young life lying on the ground, entirely at his mercy. Oh, he could hear the blood that was pumping through the boy's veins, wanted to feel that sweet ambrosia run down his throat.

A sharp pang of guilt splintered through him as he recalled the look of pure terror that had spread on Potter's face, followed by something akin to triumph.

And for some reason...for some unknown reason, Severus felt drawn to this boy. His blood, the smell of him—it seemed irresistible, and he didn't know why—maybe it was the part, the very small piece of Lily that lived inside of Potter, that ran through his veins. That must be the reason. 

Severus deserved this, after all. He had protected the boy, was still protecting him from the ultimate danger. The foolish brat had no idea. 

But it wasn't really for the boy, was it? 

It was all done in Potter's name, for the "greater good." The idiot worshiped Dumbledore as if he were a god, as Albus had been planning Potter's sacrifice from the very start.

No.

It was for a beautiful memory, his flower, Lily…who laid her life down for this—

Anger welled up inside him, mixed with sadistic delight. Harry Potter was his now, to do with what he wished, damn the consequences. 

Potter deserved to be punished for every last infraction. The boy would be taught a lesson, oh yes, he would.

And who better a teacher than his former professor?

+++

Harry slowly opened his eyes as his nostrils were filled with a rich, nutty smell. He yawned and glanced around the room he was in, yet he didn't recognize his surroundings. Where-what-

Then everything came rushing back to him, and he was filled to the brim with anger once again, fury crackling under the surface like white hot lightning. Soon though, exhaustion doused the flames, and he felt defeated and tired as he lay on Snape's bed, his stomach empty and his throat dry. The door creaked open, and Harry jumped in surprise as Snape walked into the room, carrying a plate of food that he set down on the bedside table to Harry's left.

"Eat."

Harry stared up at him in disbelief. 'Snape…cooked? For me?'

His stomach growled. The food looked so tempting, and it smelled so delicious. He was so starved that he would eat Cockroach Clusters if that was all he could find.  
But he wouldn't accept food from Snape.

He turned his head away. Maybe it was possible to salvage the last tattered remains of his dignity.

"Eat. You'll feel better."

The anger came flaring back inside Harry.

"Oh, you mean because you attacked me?" Harry snapped. Besides, who knew what was in the food? Snape probably laced it with potions…he was going to drug him, poison him, torture him…

But wait…Snape would probably want Harry to be awake if he decided to eat him. He might derive some kind of sick pleasure from knowing that Harry was helpless and weak underneath him, begging for mercy while Snape slowly took his life.

Harry flung his arm to the side. The tray of food flew in the air and landed on the floor. Snape's lip curled, and he grasped the nape of Harry's neck and forced him to the ground.

"Lick it up."

Harry stared at the floor, his chest heaving. There was no chance in hell that he was going to give in and submit to Snape.

Snape apparently had other ideas. He pushed the back of Harry's head, forcing his face in the puddle. Harry thrashed wildly as he struggled to breath. Finally, Snape released his hold on Harry's head, and Harry lay on the floor panting.

He couldn't let Snape break him.

He gazed up at the man with silent fury burning in his eyes. Snape seemed to be unconcerned as he grabbed the chain that attached Harry to the bed and tugged on it.

"You will do as I say."

Snape's voice was raw silk as he spoke, and somehow the sound of it calmed Harry. It was almost soothing as it caressed the wounds that littered his heart. Harry shivered as the sound traveled through his body, sending a tingle up his spine.

It was a trick, a ruse; there was no comfort to be found here.

"No."

Harry grasped the bed to anchor himself as Snape pulled on the chain.

Finally, Snape released his hold on the chain. "Suit yourself." He walked past the puddle of food and sneered at Harry. "You can starve."

The door slammed shut behind him, and Harry fell on his hands and knees once more. The food smelled divine, and it was so close…he scanned the room to make certain that the vampire wasn't lurking about before scooping up a piece of bread and cramming it in his mouth. He tentatively sniffed at the porridge that lay as a puddle on the floor before he used the bread to sop up some of it.

'Ah, much better.'

When he finally had his fill, Harry lay back down on the bed and curled up underneath the covers. Come to think of it, where did Snape sleep? Did he rest in a coffin, like the vampires in folklore? Or perhaps he could transform into a bat and he hung upside down from the ceiling. Maybe he didn't sleep at all.

And why would Snape need food? Did someone else live here? Surely not. Maybe vampires needed sustenance other than blood.

Harry yawned and turned over to his side as his eyes drooped. There were so many questions he had, but he would never ask them. He would rather forget this whole ordeal—Dumbledore was still alive, and Harry was free, playing Wizard's chess with Ron, laughing with his friends…

He didn't know if he would ever see them again.

He felt a sharp twinge in his stomach at that thought, and his heart ached.

It was all Snape's fault.

Snape was the reason his parents and Sirius were dead.

Snape was the reason Dumbledore was dead.

Snape was the cause of all this anger and heartache.

Harry sighed as he tossed and turned on the bed. It felt better to have someone to blame for the pain.

+++

Severus stretched out on the living room couch. Merlin, he hated this couch. His father had bought it years ago, and here it still sat, moth-eaten and falling apart. It was actually one of the few things he kept of his father's. Severus had tried erasing the man's influence on the house. Even though Tobias was dead, Severus could still hear his mother's frantic screams, could still remember the hatred and disgust on his father's face as he looked upon his son.

Severus flicked his eyes to the ceiling. The boy was too much trouble than what he was worth.

He wasn't worth the risk.

But, oh, the temptation was too great for him to bear. The knowledge that he had a helpless, unwilling human held captive upstairs, trembling as he awaited his fate, made Severus almost lightheaded. It had been too long since he had last fed, excluding the first time he tasted Potter, and even then he had contented himself with various creatures that wandered the Forbidden Forest.

A deep, yearning hunger filled him as he thought of the boy. He needed the blood…oh, how he wanted it…

And it was so sweet, like honey seeping into him, awakening his senses, bringing him to life once more.

Severus suddenly found himself walking up the staircase towards the bedroom where Potter was kept. He opened the door quietly and slipped inside, silent like creeping shadows in the night.

Potter lay on the bed, curled up in a blanket, fast asleep.

A rare smile twitched on the edge of Severus' lips, and he pushed it back down. He approached the bed slowly, staring at the boy's sleeping form the entire time. He shouldn't be doing this, preying on a young man, Lily's son, no less, no matter how much he disliked him.

So young…only sixteen. A child, really.

But the sound of Potter's heart pumping echoed in his ears, through his body, in his stomach…

A brief moment of uncertainty seized Severus. Would he be able to stop himself in time? He had no intention of taking the boy's life.

Indecision was replaced with resolve as emerald eyes snapped open to meet his own.

Severus felt a shiver run down his spine as raw need coursed through him. He could hear the blood sing to him in a beautiful, harmonious melody, the music flowing through every inch of him.

He had to have it now.

With an animalistic growl that shocked even Severus, he pounced on Potter, pinning him to the bed. His vision went red, and he felt his fangs lengthen.  
He brought his mouth to the golden column that was Potter's neck, and scraped his teeth gently along his skin, drawing pathways of blood that trickled down the boy's throat.  
Severus paused before sinking his teeth into that sweet flesh.

He heard himself moan as the delicious nectar hit his tongue and ran down his throat. He sucked harder at the wound, delighting in the whimpers of pain and fear that Potter uttered.

Potter thrashed underneath him frantically, bleating like a lamb that was being consumed by the wolf.

Severus found himself growing painfully hard as he continued to feed, his engorged erection pressing against Potter's trembling form. It was normal for a vampire to become aroused during a feeding, but Severus had never felt such desire before as he did now. He didn't want just this, he realized.

He wanted more.

He wanted it all.

Severus broke away from Potter with impending dread filling him.

It wasn't right.

It was perverse, to covet the son of the woman he loved. But it didn't matter right now, none of it did. He had protected Potter all of these years, hadn't he?

And he would make sure that neither side of the war would find him. Who would suspect that Harry Potter was smuggled away in Severus Snape's house?

Severus bent down to lick the wound clean, and felt Potter shudder slightly as he ran his tongue over his neck.

Oh, the taste of him, the beads of sweat that trickled down his body, the scent of fear…was so delicious. Merlin, how he wanted to take Potter as his own completely. Mark him both inside and out, claim him forever…

Severus lifted himself off of the bed and glanced down at the boy. He brushed a lock of hair from Potter's face, and chuckled as he jerked back instinctively, as if burned.  
It was astonishing to think that this boy, this child, had thwarted the Dark Lord so many times, while now he lay powerless and weak, just as Severus had always seen him.  
He pushed away the guilt that arose as he stared at Potter.

Potter was nothing now. Nothing but a pawn. A toy.

Still, Severus felt the pit of his stomach squirm.

He had vowed to protect this foolish young man, and he had lived up to his promise. But…could he protect Potter from his own dark desires?

Severus turned in a flurry of black robes and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

'Enough of this.'

He descended down the stairs and sat back down on the couch, staring into space. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Potter deserved all of this, for all of the hardship he had caused Severus over the years.

Severus lay back down and closed his eyes. Emerald eyes stared back at him, pleading, imploring…

Severus huffed and turned on his side as he tried to banish the guilt from his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Moonlight filtered in through the window like a sheen of molten pearls as Harry stood, the chain stretched as far as it would go. The night was peaceful; the sound of crickets chirping flowed like soft music through the air.

Harry bit his lip until he tasted his own blood, sharp and metallic on his tongue. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Snape pounced on him…trapped him. The way his heart beat itself out of his chest as Snape sunk his teeth into him as if he were a particularly tasty snack. The way Snape's arousal pressed into him like a brand on his skin.

Harry repressed a shudder and tried to ignore the flicker of a flame in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't deny the feelings that had arisen when Snape fed on him. He could still feel Snape's lips on his throat, his body trapping Harry to the bed, and Harry's blood, turning to fire that spread through his veins and catching the rest of him ablaze.

'No. Ridiculous.'

Outside, something stirred, and Harry snapped back into focus.

He squinted as he watched two blonde figures scurry closer, their heads down. The figure with the longer hair was nervously shifting her head from side to side. The other silhouette lifted his head, and with a thrill of shock, Harry realized who the two mysterious people were: Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.

Soon, the two disappeared from Harry's view as they reached the door. Faintly, Harry heard knocking on the door and the murmur of voices from down the stairs. Suddenly, the door to the room Harry was held in creaked open, and Harry jumped to look behind him. Snape swept into the room, his robes billowing behind him like a midnight cloud dragging its claws over the moon.

Harry's heart galloped like a race horse.

Snape made hardly any sound when he walked, and Harry had not heard anyone walk up the stairs.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded surly.

A slow smirk spread on Snape's face.

"I wouldn't use that tone if I were you, Potter. After all…"

Snape stepped closer to him, and Harry stumbled backward clumsily.

"You are in my house."

"As a prisoner!" Harry spat. Snape's smirk widened.

 

"Do you think the Malfoy's will help you?" whispered Snape. "They are only concerned with saving their own hides. Besides, they wouldn't hear you at any matter. I cast silencing wards around this room."

Harry glowered, yet fear and apprehension rose within him steadily as Snape approached him.

"There is nothing you can do." Snape grasped Harry's left shoulder with one claw-like hand and pulled him closer. Furiously, Harry tried to shake Snape's hand off him, but the man's grip only tightened.

"Well well," Snape murmured, his voice like silken threads weaving through Harry's veins, causing his blood to pump harder. "It seems that you still have some fight left in you, after all." Harry flushed as Snape's tongue slipped out of his mouth to delicately wet his lips.

'No, please, not again…'

Harry's thoughts raced through his mind like speeding broomsticks rushing in his head in succession.

Yet Snape made no move towards Harry.

With a parting sneer, he pivoted in a black swirl of robes and vanished through the door, closing it shut behind him.

Harry sucked in a shaky breath and made his way back to the bed. He curled underneath the blankets, and to his own horror, felt the sting of tears, and the wet trickle that ran down his face. He remembered vividly how loneliness felt—life with the Dursleys for instance, of course, but there were other points of his life when he had felt completely isolated as well.

Granted, Snape's room was several steps above the cupboard under the stairs, but…

Harry shivered and buried himself deeper under the blankets, inhaling the warm, powdery scent of the sheets. He clutched them to his face and closed his eyes, slowly drifting away into a dreamless sleep.

+++

When Harry woke, it was daytime once more. He stretched out with a wide yawn and slid off the bed, stumbling towards the window, still blinded by the dazzling sunlight.  
He cracked open his eyes so they were slits, and squinted out the window. Harry's eyes widened as he watched a black robed figure kneel beside a small garden in front of the house.

Well, that dispelled the myth that vampires could not venture in the sunlight.

Harry gazed down at the garden. He had not seen much of anything when Snape first brought him to his home. From what Harry gathered by looking at the room where he was kept, the house was small and shabby, but meticulously clean. The garden, however, was blossoming and full of life despite the emptiness and darkness around it. As Snape lifted a watering can and began to water the plants, Harry grew more and more confused. Snape seemed to take better care of his garden than he did himself, Harry noted as he saw the man's greasy hair flop in his face as he bent over his flowers. He wondered why Snape did not simply cast a spell to nourish the plants, instead of watering each flower one by one.  
Harry continued to watch as Snape watered his garden, and saw that the man paid special attention to the large tiger lily that bloomed from the damp soil. Snape's lips began to move, and with a jolt of surprise, Harry realized that he was talking to the plants.

Merlin, he wished the chain were just a bit longer, so he could open the window and maybe listen to what Snape was saying.

But he raked his fingers uselessly over the glass with a sigh.

Suddenly, Snape glanced up at the window, and Harry's stomach fell. He ducked down and dove toward the bed in haste, bundling himself up in the blankets and shutting his eyes tightly. His fists balled up in the sheets and cold sweat ran down his face like morning dew.

Snape saw him, he was certain…

But then Harry felt a trickle of calm pervade the panic that ebbed through him. He did nothing wrong, so why was he worried?

But memories of helplessness and fear flooded him.

And the other feelings that Snape evoked inside of Harry as the man had fed from him, the feelings that Harry tried so hard to subdue…

During those moments, he had nothing, was nothing.

But now he was something, wasn't he? He was something to Snape. For the first time in his life, Harry felt needed, truly needed. Snape had chosen him, not any other human that he could have picked off of the streets, someone that would not have been missed.

What other reasons did Snape have for keeping him captive?

+++

Severus tended his garden, humming softly to himself. He felt so free when he was here, with the life he helped nourish. Of course, being a solitary person, he preferred his dank dungeons to the bright outdoors, but—

Memories flooded him as he tugged the weeds out from around his favorite plant.

His precious lily.

He plucked a sprig of rosemary and tucked it in his robes to use as a vital ingredient in one of his potions. He gazed at the vibrant tiger lily and reached a hand up to stroke the silky petals.

His Lily…

How could he betray her like this? He was supposed to protect Harry for her, so her death wasn't in vain.

'You are protecting him,' the little voice in the back of his head reprimanded.

Yet some deep, primal part of him wanted to completely dominate Potter, make him his own forever. But why?

Severus wanted to possess him more than anything he had ever wanted before. It was overwhelming. Such a strange and terrifying thing, to feel such emotions that he couldn't explain, not even to himself.

He loved Lily, but that was purely what it was: love. Friendship, and purity, and warmth…he never had any desire to do anything with her. He had dared not touch such a beautiful, innocent flower. She was his best and only true friend, and he did love her, more than he loved anything else.

This, with Potter, was different.

This…animalistic desire seemed to consume him, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to…

Merlin this was too new, so confusing...so unlike him to feel such a way.

But Severus refused to feed on him again.

Harry was his captive, and he could take advantage of him all he wanted, he deserved it, after all, didn't he? But at the same time...he vowed to protect this boy. He did so for Lily, and now...

Severus glanced up at Potter's window and saw the boy in question staring down at him, a curious expression on his face. Suddenly, Potter started and ducked out of sight.  
'Time to feed him, I suppose,' Severus thought to himself.

As much as he despised Potter, resented him, he now felt a stab of pity as he thought of how the boy must feel, trapped and confused. Perhaps he believed Severus would kill him.  
The boy's destiny was to die, yes, but not by Severus' hand.

He recalled once more what Dumbledore had said as they discussed Potter's fate, and shuddered inwardly at the memory.

If he kept Potter here with him, maybe he could put it off, prolong his life…protect him...

The boy's death was inevitable, but at least he could protect him for just a little longer.

Severus knew that once the Dark Lord discovered that he had Potter, he would be punished for keeping it a secret. Of course, though, he would claim that he had been keeping him safe for the Dark Lord, until he found this so-called "Death Stick."

Severus sighed. This was getting more and more complicated with every turn. He had acted on the spur of the moment and dragged Potter with him in anger.

To what? To prove something to him?

To punish him. To hurt him.

To shelter him. To keep him safe…

It was all for Lily. It had nothing to do with that boy.

Nothing at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry lost track of how many days he had been held captive, but he knew he was in desperate need of a shower and a shaving spell. He scratched at the rough stubble irritably as he stared up at the ceiling, studying the cracks and peeling paint. His stomach growled, and he let out a sigh. He couldn't fall asleep, and there was nothing to do, no one to talk to…he was so desperate right now that he almost found himself wanting to talk to Snape.

Almost.

He had lived in isolation without a single friend for years, surely he could handle this. Yet now he knew what friendship was, and it made his captivity that much harder.  
The door creaked open once more, and Harry sat up in the bed as Snape entered the room with a plate of food and a glass of water. Harry could feel his mouth water as he looked at the food.

His stomach growled loudly. Snape smirked.

"So, are you going to throw another fit, like last time? Are you going to lick the scraps off the floor like some mongrel? Like your dog of a godfather?"

Harry jumped out of the bed and lunged at Snape.

"Ah, ah, ah! Manners, Potter. You are a guest in my house."

"A prisoner!" Harry yelled. "Let me go, you bastard-"

Harry heard the crack of the slap before he felt it. It stung against his skin.

"You know nothing," Snape hissed, malice oozing from every word.

Harry seethed silently, staring at Snape, trying to convey as much hatred in his gaze as he possibly could.

 

Snape stared back at him silently, his onyx eyes penetrating Harry's emerald ones. Harry felt an uncomfortable squirm in the pit of his stomach. Something strange sparkled in Snape's eyes, though his face showed no emotion. Harry couldn't name it, but he felt uneasy as Snape continued to stare into his eyes.

 

Harry still did not break his gaze, not wanting to be the first to back down, but it became too much, too overwhelming for him. Finally Harry flicked his eyes towards the plate of food. His throat was dry and he wanted to swallow the lump that formed there, but he did not want to make a show of being nervous.

He felt a strong hand grasp his chin, forcing him to look up, and Snape came closer, his fingers pressing into Harry's skin. His other hand came up to stroke over the scars on Harry's neck, and Harry felt his skin tingle. Something was bubbling up inside him, he could feel it, could feel the warmth pooling in his belly.

"Don't touch me!"

 

Harry wrenched himself from Snape's grasp with as much strength as he could muster.

Snape frowned.

"You will eat," he ordered, "or must I spoon feed you myself?"

"Why do you care?" snapped Harry.

Snape said nothing, but set the glass of water and plate of food down on the bedside table. Harry stared at the glass of water, and he became very aware of how full his bladder was.

"I need to piss again."

Snape strode over to where the chain was connected to the bedpost, unlocked it, and grabbed the end of the loose chain.

"Such language," Snape said, his voice soft, yet his voice stung Harry somehow.

Snape led Harry out of the room, and Harry felt humiliated, being dragged out like some sort of dog. His bladder was too full for him to argue.

Harry followed Snape down the creaking staircase and into a small room that Harry saw was a bathroom.

"Hurry up," Snape ordered, then slammed the door behind him.

Harry looked around. It was very tidy and clean, and Harry smelled that soft, powdery scent again. He glanced over at the shower stall, and suddenly curiosity overcame him. Did Snape wash his hair? He peeked in the stall and saw a few bottles of different concoctions sitting on the shelf.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Hurry up in there!"

Harry grumbled under his breath and turned towards the toilet.

After he was done, Harry opened the door and Snape swooped in on him like a great bat. He grabbed the chain once more and tugged on it. Reluctantly, Harry followed, his stomach growling loudly.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a knock at the front door, and Snape's head snapped to the side, his eyes widening.

"Severus! Severus, please!"

A woman's voice, one Harry recognized. It was Narcissa Malfoy once more, and the urgent rapping on the door increased while Snape shoved Harry up the stairs.

Maybe…just maybe she would help him. She had a son herself, after all, and seemingly doted on him. Harry drew a deep breath.

"H-"

Before he even uttered one syllable, Snape clapped a hand over Harry's mouth, picked him up, chain and all, and strode up the rickety staircase.

Harry fell to the floor in the bedroom and Snape shut the door quietly, locking it before he made his way down the stairs.

Harry leaped off the bed and edged towards the door. The soft murmur of voices grew louder, and Narcissa's voice became shrill.

"Severus, only for a week, please!"

Harry could just barely make out what Snape said in reply.

"The Dark Lord will be angered, surely. Does he know that you wish for Draco to stay with me?"

"No. I—I can't subject Draco to all of this at once. He's only a child!"

"Then perhaps you should have thought of that before initiating him into this. What good will his stay with me do him?"

"I must be away for three days, Severus, it's important business, important business, just—I don't want to leave him alone…there."

A long silence followed.

Finally, Snape sighed. "Very well. I will keep him safe."

Harry frowned, his mind racing. Malfoy would be staying there, then? At Snape's house?

Harry's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. There was no chance that Malfoy would help him escape. Malfoy despised him, and even if he didn't, his family was very good friends with Snape. 'All Slytherins and Death Eaters together,' he thought bitterly as he picked absently at his chain.

He heard the door slam shut, and quiet voices muttering downstairs. He strained to hear what they were saying, but they were too soft.

With a sigh, Harry clambered back up on the bed and burrowed deep into the blankets, that warm, pleasant scent enveloping and comforting him as he inhaled deeply and drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

'Well, this is an inconvenience.'

Severus stared at Narcissa, making sure to carefully mask his emotions to cover up his shock. Now was the least opportune time for young Draco to stay with him. He would have to prepare a guest room, and, of course, keep Potter a secret…

Severus sighed inwardly. It was more trouble than it was worth. He couldn't have Draco discover Potter; that would put not only his cover as a spy in jeopardy, but Potter's life as well.

And he couldn't let anything happen to Lily Evan's son, he had made a promise to himself.

Still, he had to quell the deep, primal hunger that arose when he thought about Potter, and those sparkling green eyes. His eyes beheld such resilience and strength, yet innocence as well.

The boy had been through many hardships, but he had not seen the worst of the world yet. Severus winced as pain shot through his left arm. He glanced at his left forearm, the one that bore the proof of his many sins. No. Potter hadn't seen the darkest side of life, not yet.

Not yet.

Severus walked up the stairs, passing his own bedroom where he kept Potter, and to the last room in the hall. He didn't trust Draco Malfoy as far as he could throw him. Then again, ironically enough, Severus was fairly strong, and with his supernatural strength, could probably throw Draco very far indeed.

But the little Slytherin was a sneak, and never knew how to mind his own business.

Severus stopped in front of the last door in the hall. He paused a long time before opening the door.

This had been his parent's room.

He stood in the hallway, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm, his knuckles white. He could still hear the screaming and fighting, could still feel the harsh beatings that he had had to endure for years as a child.

He hadn't been in this room in years, and there were reasons behind it. So many memories flooded him at once, and it was almost too much. He had tried to put the past behind him, but he was not one to move on easily.

This was why he kept Potter in his room. This was why he slept on the couch at night, with nothing but a throw flung over him to keep him warm. He would rather freeze to death than spend a night in his parent's room.

But now, it seemed as if he had no choice. It was either put aside his anger and resentment, or risk being exposed. Then what good would he have been for Lily, if he could no longer keep her son safe? If all that he had done for Dumbledore, for Harry, had been in vain?

Harry.

Harry POTTER.

It was odd to think of him by that name, and really, he didn't want to. He didn't want to acknowledge it at all. He felt as if he was becoming softer towards him, by thinking of him as that, yet he felt closer, as well.

He wondered who picked the boy's name.

What was wrong with him? Why did he feel…such feelings for this boy, this child? In all his years of being a vampire, he had never longed for a human being as much as he did now, with Ha-Potter. He was always able to control his animalistic desire of the hunt, and he never had felt such raw lust in years, and never as strong as this. Though the last time he had been with someone was before he had been Turned. Many of his encounters had been the result of pent up frustration and loneliness. When he was younger, it was so much harder to contain than it was now. He remembered the first time he had wanted someone so passionately...it was more than a want, it was a need. And this particular man was from the House of Black, and he had disgusted himself. Regulus was a great deal more pleasant than his Gryffindor counterpart, but the one night they had spent with each other, Regulus left afterward with the shadows of the night, crept out as softly as a cloud floating across the star specked sky. That was the last time Severus ever saw him.  
The next day, Regulus was dead.

It was just another reason to hate himself even more. First Regulus, then Lily, now Dumbledore…and he felt responsible for their deaths.

He had later found solace following the Dark Lord. It intoxicated him, the feeling of power, the fear that he could instill into people with just a single glance. And that was the one time he would ever allow himself to lose control, when he was a loyal Death Eater, when he relished causing pain, when he crushed others as easily as he would crush an insect. He relished it until the Dark Lord came after Lily. When she died, something inside of him died with her. It was as if he had a flower inside of his heart, and he carried it with him everywhere, until one day, the lily wilted, and its colors faded, its leaves curled up and became brown…

It sickened him now, that he still loved the feeling of power. He had authority as a teacher, and he loved to exercise it frequently. It terrified Severus how much he had enjoyed feeling Potter struggle beneath him as he had drained his life away slowly through his throat.

He really was a monster.

+++

"But—but!"

Draco spluttered indignantly as Severus raised a single brow. Dear Merlin, but this child was such a spoiled brat. It was a good thing that he had fondness for him, though he didn't know why he liked him at all.

"I am not sleeping on the couch," Draco declared, sniffing his nose and raising his head haughtily to stare at the opposite wall. Severus let out an inaudible sigh.

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Draco. I only have one bedroom in this house, and I sleep in it."

"Your house is a dump!" Draco snapped rudely, and Severus had to grit his teeth to keep from lashing out at him. Yes, he had control, but the little good humor he had could only be pushed so far. He had a horrible temper.

"I apologize that all of us cannot be as affluent as the Malfoys, and afford to live in a mansion," Severus answered slowly, trying to keep the contempt out of his voice.  
Draco fell onto the couch with a huff, and glared up at Severus. "What about food?"

It was a good thing that vampires needed sustenance other than blood, or Draco would surely question him. There were only a select few of the Dark Lord's followers who knew the nature of his…condition, and Draco Malfoy was not one of them. Severus intended to keep it that way. The less people who knew about him, the better.

"I'll fix you something." Severus headed out to the kitchen.

Suddenly, a shrill scream rent the air.

"What the-" Draco jumped up, startled. Severus shook his head.

'It's nothing."

"But I heard-"

"It's probably a banshee or a ghoul," Severus replied. Ghouls were known to seek refuge in people's houses.

But this was no ghoul.

Severus quickly whipped up something for Draco to eat. He considered himself a good cook. Cooking was not unlike potions, after all.

He strode up the stairs, whispered the charm that unlocked the bedroom door, and stepped inside.

Harry—no, not Harry, can't think of him—was tossing and turning in the bed, breathing heavily and whimpering like a wounded pup.

Severus walked over to where the boy lay and stared down at him. His face that was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he was trembling violently.

So this was the boy everyone revered. This was the brave, noble Harry Potter.

Severus felt a stab of pity for him. Everyone expected so much from this child, and that's what he was—a child. Only a child.

 

'He's not a child anymore, is he? Why is it you want him if he's only a child?'

The boy was sixteen, almost seventeen, hardly a man, but Severus could see the faint stubble on Potter's chin.

His fingers itched to run across Potter's jaw line and feel the stubble rasp like sandpaper against his skin.

Potter whispered something under his breath, and clutched frantically at the blankets. With a sigh, Severus stood up and went over to the chest of drawers, where he found a rag. That would do.

Hesitantly, he sat down on the bed beside Harry and wiped his face gently with the cloth, wiping it clean of the sweat and fear that was so noticeable on his face. It snagged on his glasses, and Severus reached out a hand to take them off of his face and set them on the table.

Potter suddenly turned on his side and grasped the object closest to him—namely, Severus. Severus sat still as Potter nuzzled Severus' arm, unconscious of what he was doing. Curiosity ate at Severus. What was it that troubled the boy so badly that he would scream in his sleep? This was the first night that anything like this had happened. Briefly he considered probing the boy's open mind, but decided against it. It wouldn't be fair to do that.

'But you're not very fair, are you? You only care about meeting your own ends.'

No. It wasn't true, he cared…he didn't care about many things, but he did care.

Severus wiped Harry's forehead one last time before gently shaking his arm. Harry—Potter's arm fell limply to the bed, and Severus stood up and walked towards the door.

He glanced at Potter one last time before quietly shutting the door and replacing the spells that he had removed before entering.

HarryHarryHarryHarry

It was like a whispered mantra in his head that just wouldn't leave him alone.

Harry.


	6. Chapter 6

It was quiet, unnervingly so, as Harry walked across the bare field. There was nothing but silence, not even a single bird chirped to the empty grey sky as he wandered aimlessly, unaware of where he was heading.

Suddenly he tripped, and with a thump, he landed in a deep hole.

No, not a hole, it looked more like a—

He glanced underneath his own body to see a lifeless Dumbledore staring blankly ahead, his once sharp and penetrating eyes now dead and unseeing. Harry scrambled up and tried to climb out of the grave, but something was holding him back. He glanced down at his feet and saw vines creeping up them, trapping him inside…

With a cry he broke free of the vines and grabbed his wand, and with a whispered word he vaulted out of the grave and landed on the cold, hard ground above it.

Panting, Harry glanced around to take in his surroundings. His heart stopped, and he could feel horror creeping through his veins like ivy.

Grave after grave, that was all he could see, and they were all open. He glanced down at the one next to Dumbledore's, and saw Hermione staring up at him, an expression of shock and fear forever etched on her features. She was the only figure standing. There were no headstones, only carelessly dug holes and the bodies that lay inside them. He made his way through the line of graves and saw Ron, and Hagrid, and Ginny, all staring up at him with dead, blank eyes...accusing him…  
You could have saved us.

Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Lupin…Tonks...

Harry could hear a scream cut through the air, and realized it was himself.

"I tried," he sobbed, dropping to his knees on the frozen earth. "I couldn't-"

Harry.

Potter.

Potter.

"Yes, Potter," whispered a disturbingly familiar voice. "It was your fault. You could have saved them all, but you had to go and prove yourself to be the big hero, didn't you? Just like your foolish father did before he got himself and precious Lily murdered…"

"No…"

"Are you going to avenge them, boy?"

Too late.

Too late.

Harry screamed again, and this time his scream was not of terror, but of pain, and helplessness, because he knew that it was too late to save any of them, too late to do anything but mourn their untimely deaths.

With a gasp, he broke free of the dream and opened his eyes.

He glanced around the room with wild eyes. Everything was blurry, but he could see that he was in a bed, in a small room. With shaking hands, he felt around for his glasses and finally found them lying on the table beside him.

Too late.

The words sent a shiver down his spine as they crawled underneath his skin and whispered to him.

He shook his head and shuddered as he reached for the glass of water that sat on the table. He gulped the cool liquid down, feeling relief as it washed down his sore throat. His stomach growled loudly. He was famished, and he looked to the table as if he expected a plate of steaming food to appear magically on the table beside him.  
Suddenly there was a rustle of robes outside the door, and Harry squinted as the door slowly opened and Snape stepped in the room.

"I see you are feeling better," Snape said smoothly as he went to pick up the now empty glass of water.

"I guess." Harry frowned. Why should Snape care anyway?

"You are having nightmares again." It wasn't a question, and Harry's frown deepened.

"It's nothing," Harry muttered dismissively, laying back down on the bed and turning to face away from Snape.

There was a long silence. Harry craned his head to the side so that he could see Snape.

Snape was staring at him, but there was a certain softness in his hard, wintery eyes that made Harry feel uneasy. It was foreign…it was something that he had never seen before in Snape.

Snape averted his gaze, and when he looked up again, his dark midnight eyes were as cold as they always were. "I'm making you dinner. Is there anything that you would prefer?"  
Harry had to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor.

"Um. Um, well, I like anything, really. I guess."

Without a word, Snape turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Snape stopped with his hand on the door.

"I like butterbeer. If you have any."

"I don't drink butterbeer." Harry could see his thin lips quirk slightly as if they wanted to curl into a sneer.

"Oh. Okay."

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest, could hear the rhythmic thumping like that of a tap dancer doing a jig inside of him. He cursed himself silently. Snape's presence, while before, only filled him with disgust and anger, now filled him with fear. He was a very dangerous man…no, not even man. Creature. 

Harry wondered how it happened, how Snape became the monster that he was today. He was sure that his condition had nothing to do with his personality…even in the memories he had seen of a younger Snape, he was as unpleasant then as he was now. No…he wanted to know how he became a vampire. There was so much he wanted to ask Snape, but he wouldn't. His pride wouldn't allow it.

Snape came back into the room a few minutes later, carrying a bowl of hot soup on a tray. He placed it in front of Harry, and Harry's glasses fogged up as steam clouded the lenses.

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want to thank him, because, after all, what would he be thanking him for? For not starving him?  
"Um," was all he could say. Snape scowled at him, his hands clenched around his forearms.

Harry glanced away quickly, not wanting to meet Snape's eyes. The look he had in them, sometimes…it disturbed him, and he couldn't put a finger on it at all.  
He dipped the spoon into the soup and slurped as Snape stepped towards the window. The sunlight glinted off of his horrible, greasy hair, and Harry shuddered.

"I could give you a potion."

Harry's head snapped back up from his bowl of soup. "Huh?"

"A potion," Snape reiterated slowly as if talking to a two-year-old, "to prevent nightmares."

You are the nightmare, Harry wanted to say, but he bit his tongue.

"I'll be fine," Harry answered blandly, turning his attention back to his soup.

Snape said nothing in return, but he turned to stare at the lopsided armoire that rested in the corner nearest to the window. His hooked nose stood out from his face as Harry stared at him from a side view.

"SNAPE!"

Harry could recognize Malfoy's screechy voice anywhere. He winced.

Snape glared at Harry, as if it was his fault that Malfoy was a spoiled brat, and swept out of the room.

Harry slurped up the rest of the soup, still staring at the closed door. He lifted his hand up to his throat and rubbed the puncture wounds that Snape had stabbed into Harry's skin with his yellowed fangs. Flashes of the attacks zipped through his mind, and he grasped the spoon firmly until it felt like the metal was going to cut into his hand.

He would get out of here.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy was not a stupid boy.

Selfish, maybe. Self centered…yeah, probably. He could admit it.  
But stupid?

No. He was a conniving Slytherin, after all. Then again, so were his goons, so that wasn't saying very much.

There was a reason that Snape wouldn't let him sleep upstairs. He was hiding something…but what? Draco ran through the possible reasons in his mind.

Snape had a dead body secreted away in his bedroom. Well, that could be one reason, at least. But why would he hide a dead body upstairs when he could just as easily dispose of it himself? Maybe it was for potions ingredients or an Inferi. Then again, Snape was a solitary and sort of ugly man, and probably lonely...

Draco shuddered. That was enough of those thoughts.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to know what was up there. Tonight, he would go investigating.

+++

"What if I need something, Severus?"

"You know where the kitchen is," Snape snapped. "I have confidence that you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco scrutinized his former professor. Yes, Snape was definitely hiding something. Granted, Snape was a very private person, but Draco wasn't an idiot. He knew how many rooms were upstairs.

"Goodnight."Snape flicked his wand, and the lights dimmed.

"G'night." Draco yawned for emphasis.

When Snape had gone, Draco stared into the darkness. Now all he had to do was wait.

Sometime later, he found himself creeping up the rickety staircase, wincing as the steps creaked ominously.

He stopped in front of the first door, and already he could feel the magic crackling around it. Yes, this was it. He rifled through his robe pockets. There was his wand, a Droobles wrapper—

Damn. There wasn't anything that he could use to pick the lock open, and there were obviously shield charms around the door so that no intruders could get in…or whatever was in that room couldn't get out.

Draco frowned. Curiosity ate at him from the inside. He was dying to know what it was that Snape had hidden in there.

+++

Severus lay in bed, staring up at the crackling paint of the ceiling. Guilt festered inside of him like the rotting piece of meat that was his heart.

What kind of monster was he, preying on a young, innocent man that was Lily's son? Using him…hurting him…

He tried to reason with himself. He deserves it.

Did anyone really deserve that, though? Severus could feel the self-disgust build up inside of him, threatening to spill over.

He closed his eyes tightly and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of wide emerald eyes and unruly black hair.

+++

Restless, Harry turned over in his sleep with a yawn. This bed had to be one of the most uncomfortable beds he had ever slept on, excluding the one at the Dursley's of course. With another yawn, he shut his eyes again, trying to bring pleasant memories to the forefront of his mind. He imagined Ginny, and her red hair that sparkled in the sun, her warm smile…

Harry's heart pumped faster.

Ginny, and her sweet butterfly kisses that seemed to flutter his heart when their lips met...

God, he missed her. Would he ever see her again? What about Ron, and Hermione? The days that he spent with them seemed so far away now. All that he could see was the dismal graying walls of the little room that he was in at the present.

He scratched his head impatiently. He hadn't had a shower in days, and the light stubble that sprinkled his chin was irritating, different from the clean shaven skin he was so used to.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound by the door, and his heart leaped. Maybe Malfoy wasn't completely useless, after all.

The noise ceased, and Harry squinted at the door in annoyance. Surely it couldn't be too difficult to figure out how to open a door. Unless…  
Snape must have put spells on the room so that no one could come inside. Of course! Why didn't he realize that before? But what reason did Snape have for keeping him here?  
He turned over on his side with a huff, and closed his eyes tightly, trying to force himself to sleep.

+++

"Sectumsempra."

The words cut through him the same instant the spell did, slashing through his flesh and nerve endings with an unbearable pain.

Harry screamed.

Snape smiled grimly.

"You deserve to be punished, Potter," he whispered, tracing the edges of the deep gash with a single finger as Harry whimpered. He lifted the bloodstained finger to his mouth and licked it, tasting his life, his nectar. His youthful innocence. 

"What you did to Mr. Malfoy was unforgivable, and now you must pay in the same way he did. It's only fair, don't you agree?"

Harry said nothing, just stared defiantly into Severus' eyes as Severus smirked. He would have that proud neck bow before him soon enough. Suddenly, Harry spat, and his saliva hit Severus in the face.

"That was a very foolish thing to do, Potter," Severus murmured, bending his head down to the gash in Harry's chest and inhaling the aroma of the fresh, metallic blood that pumped beneath the boy's skin. He opened his mouth against the wound and groaned as the blood ran down his waiting throat—

Severus woke with a start.

That was not the first time that Harry had invaded his dreams, but it was the most vivid so far. He imagined that he could actually taste Potter's blood upon his own lips. He felt his stomach growl in anticipation and tried his best to ignore the blood lust that called to him from upstairs. Mmm, to taste his blood, just once more…he could restrain himself. He prided himself on his self-control, after all. Where would he be, if he couldn't control his baser needs and wants?  
Severus stretched his limbs and headed out the door towards his garden. He breathed the scent of the flowers in deeply, and he smelled the herbs that he used in potions, and the roses that gently turned upwards from the damp soil, even the soil itself, earthy and warm. This would keep him distracted for a little while, at least. When he started a task such as this, he immersed himself completely in it so that everything else was a mere memory.

It was dawn, and the sun was starting to rise from the horizon. Severus wiped his forehead, where beads of sweat were starting to form, plastering strands of greasy hair to his face.  
He inhaled the aroma of his garden once more.

The scent of fresh blood mingled with the scent of the flowers and herbs.

Severus snapped his head towards the upstairs window, and swiftly made his way back inside. The smell was more prevalent there, and as he walked up the stairs, it became stronger. He could feel his nostrils dilating and his cock harden in excitement. Oh Merlin, he wanted to taste that blood, if only once more. His hand trembled as he raised it towards the doorknob, and then abruptly dropped his hand to rest at his side. He had more self-restraint than this. Potter was driving him insane, making him act more erratically than he ever had before.

Severus swept down the stairs towards the cellar, his brow furrowed. What could the boy possibly be doing to make himself bleed?

+++

Harry grimaced as he scratched at the manacles that chained him to the bed, wrestling with the cold metal in an attempt to possibly…what did he expect to do? Flee from Snape? Even with his history of thwarting Dark wizards, Harry still couldn't imagine trying to outrun Snape, who was an exceptionally powerful wizard himself, and a vampire to boot.  
Harry felt a trickle of wetness on his wrist, and looked down. So immersed was he in his task that he broke through a layer of skin, and a light sheen of blood was shining on the surface of his wrist where the chains were.

Harry heard a creaking on the stairs, and panic ebbed through his veins. Oh god, Snape could smell the blood…

The only thing he could do was lie still and hope that Snape didn't attack him again.

+++

No.

Severus could feel his control slipping out of his grasp. It had always been so easy to resist temptation before, but now, he was faced with the forbidden fruit, so succulent and sweet, and the scent called to him seductively, its tendrils wrapping around him, pulling him closer and closer. He could still smell the blood; that rich, sweet scent that lingered in the air.

Just one touch…just one taste. It would be enough.

Lily…

He would not betray her again.

The blood pounded in his own veins, hot and fiery, as he thought of him, his scent, his blood, his beautiful, pure eyes.

All that smooth golden skin, laid out for him like some delicious feast fit for a king. Harry was the unsullied virgin sacrifice, chained up and frightened, awaiting his fate.  
The boy deserved it.

Merlin have mercy on him. He was going to hell for lusting after one so young, so innocent…

Severus stepped down the cellar stairs and headed for his potions cabinet, but found himself veering towards the liquor cabinet instead. He wasn't much of a drinker, but now was as good a time as any to toss back a few.

He reached into the cabinet and retrieved a bottle of Firewhisky and a dusty glass.

Severus had had enough.

He had gone through enough in his life. He had done so much for everyone and had gotten nothing in return except disdain and disgust.  
He had been used, time and time again.

He had been betrayed by the only person he had ever loved.

His lips curled over his teeth in fury. It was time he took what was rightfully his.

And that was Lily Evans' son.

He poured the whiskey into the glass and drank it down slowly, savoring the burning sensation as it made a fiery path down his throat. It was wrong, he was wrong; he should feel guiltier than he actually did.

Lily's son. This was Lily's son.

And yet Severus wanted to possess him, and control him but why…

The desire to punish Harry for his past transgressions waned as he thought of those wide, angry emerald eyes, blaming him, judging him…just as they had so many years ago.  
Yet a part of him, a large part of him, still wanted Harry to submit to him, to…oh, Merlin forbid, desire him the way Severus desired Harry.

But who could yearn for a man such as himself? He was nothing much to look at. In fact, he knew that he was downright repugnant. His personality was much the same. But maybe…

'Lily saw past it.'

But Lily ended up with flashy, handsome James Potter, not greasy, ugly Severus Snape.

'Harry could have been your son.' 

Even though he knew he should not think about someone as tainted as he was touching Lily, he felt a wave of pure jealousy towards James Potter for being able to see such a passionate side to Lily that he had never seen. Unbridled delight and endless, continuous love for Severus in her beautiful emerald eyes…  
But there was Harry, now. Harry could be his in a way that Lily never was and never would have been, not that he had ever wanted her in such a way. Harry, who had his mother's vibrant eyes…

Severus closed his eyes as he imagined Harry begging for release, worshipping Severus like he was a deity, making him feel wanted for the first time in his life.  
It would never happen.

Still…

The dark, seductive side compelled him to take Harry despite the boy's obvious hatred and animosity. He didn't want Harry meek and submissive. He wanted to subdue a defiant Harry, tame him as if he were some wild horse ready to be broken in.

Severus took another gulp of whiskey. Harry deserved it. He deserved to be punished for the torment the boy's father had inflicted upon him, even for his mother, for leaving Severus forever. But Severus would not blame her.

Not when he had Harry to blame instead.

+++

Severus slammed the door open and swept over to the bed. He gazed down at Harry, his own pulse beating rapidly as his dark eyes locked on that column of soft flesh that was his throat.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, his eyes widening in realization and fear as Severus inched closer. His fangs extended as his eyes feasted on the appealing sight of Harry Potter chained to his bed.

Just one more taste…it couldn't hurt. One more taste of heaven before he returned to hell.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as if they were underwater. Blood roared in Severus' ears as he put one knee on the edge of the bed and slid forward fluidly, caging Harry between his arms.

He could bite him…drink his sweet nectar, sating his hunger for a little while. But something else called to him, something even more forbidden and seductive, and his heart pounded faster inside his chest. He leaned over Harry, placing his lips on his throat, and could feel the blood pumping underneath the fragile human skin. Instead of sinking his fangs into that tender flesh, however, he opened his mouth against it, tasting the fresh sheen of sweat that broke out from the boy's fear.

Harry let out a startled gasp, which soon turned into a soft moan as Severus' lips trailed further down, sucking and nibbling every inch of bare skin that he could. He lifted his head up and stared down at Harry, who looked up at him with a mixture of horror and excitement and leaned down to devour those soft lips.

Harry let out a strangled protest now, but Severus ignored it, inhaling sharply through his nose and deepening the kiss as Harry struggled to pull away from him.

Finally. 

Satisfaction filled him before clarity and self-control took over. He broke away from Harry, looking down at his face, a face twisted with anger and repulsion…and those eyes, staring up at him with hatred.

"Get off me."

Severus backed away, still staring into Harry's eyes. Harry averted his gaze quickly, and Severus could hear the boy's heartbeat accelerate.

He wrapped his robes tighter around his body and drifted out of the room silently. Self-disgust welled up inside of him again, but it melted away as something deeper, something wild and primal, roared its triumph.

+++

There was hunger in Snape's eyes, and it made Harry uneasy.

He backed away until he hit the backboard of the bed, and he stared at Snape. There was nowhere he could go; nowhere he could run. He was trapped, chained to the bed—helpless prey.

Suddenly, Snape was on top of him, and Harry waited, anticipating the sharp pain that was sure to come. Instead, he felt a pair of soft lips against his neck, and a hot, wet tongue laving the flesh of his throat…

What—?

Harry shuddered, but from disgust or pleasure, he didn't even know. Soon, Snape left his throat, staring down at him again with that look in his dark eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry's hungrily with a growl.

Shock hit Harry like a bolt of lightning. It took him several moments to recover from it, before he started to fight Snape off. He knew he didn't stand a chance against the man, who was not only an exceptionally powerful wizard, but a vampire at that.

"No! Mph-" Harry's words were swallowed by Snape as he struggled against him. And it scared Harry how different this was from Ginny's kisses, like batting eyelashes and flowers swaying in a warm sunny breeze—no, this was completely different. It was like liquid fire, heat sparking through his whole body and he felt like a volcano about to erupt and god—he panicked as he felt arousal curl up inside the deepest parts of him and move swiftly like smoke towards the top and—

Finally, Snape broke away, his breath slightly erratic. Cold fear filled Harry like shards of ice until hot anger melted it completely—and the fear wasn't because Snape kissed him, but because part of Harry liked it.

"Get off me," Harry snarled, as Snape moved fluidly backward.

Those dark, midnight eyes pierced the silence, and Harry quickly looked away. There was something in Snape's eyes that Harry was terrified to face, something in those eyes that kept stoking that fire inside Harry. 

Without a sound, Snape swept out of the room, and Harry shivered, his lips bruised and hot.


	8. Chapter 8

"Severus?"

Draco frowned as Severus swept into the living room wordlessly. He could sense the tension that rose underneath the man's stoic exterior. Something was bothering Snape. Draco felt jubilated to know that Snape wasn't all stone. He was human like the rest of them, and there were things in life that made him uncomfortable as well.  
"Your mother will be here soon, Draco. I expect you're ready for her arrival?"

Draco squinted at Snape. "No, I didn't pack all my things yet." Inwardly, Draco became filled with disappointment. He would have liked to have stayed longer in order to find out what was in that room, but the Dark Lord would be suspicious if he was gone for longer than three days. Perhaps he thought that he went with his mother on whatever trip she had to take…

Suddenly, Severus clutched his left forearm, and Draco's heart leapt. Maybe now he had a chance to investigate what was in that mysterious room.  
"I must away, Draco. Get ready for your mother, and don't touch anything."

Draco scowled in response, and Snape nodded, giving Draco one final, piercing stare before Apparating.

Now was his last chance.

Tentatively, Draco made his way up the stairs, but instead of moving to the room at the end of the hall, he made his way to Snape's room. He approached the door and fiddled with the doorknob. It seemed that Draco had lucked out; the wards that usually protected the room were not as strong as they usually were. The wards were still present, but it seemed that the attempt to protect whatever was in that room from prying eyes was half-hearted at best.

Draco's heart jumped as he heard the doorknob click, and he gazed down to see that his fiddling really had worked. The door slowly creaked open, and Draco tentatively stepped into the room.

+++

"Severus."

"My Lord." Severus kneeled on the cold ground before the Dark Lord. He could feel the eyes of the rest of the Death Eaters upon him, including Wormtail. Wormtail, he noted with revulsion, was standing next to the Dark Lord himself.

"I sent you a summons ten minutes ago, Severus. It is not like you to ignore me."

Severus met the Dark Lord's eyes, making sure to block the images of Harry, Draco and Lily from the forefront of his mind. Voldemort stared into Severus' eyes for a moment, before nodding in satisfaction.

"I see you have been busy, Severus. I hope that the Muggle appeased your hunger."

Severus' stomach roiled, but he forced a smirk. "I apologize, my Lord, but I had not consumed anything in quite a while, and I was feeling weakened."

"I understand, my friend." Voldemort smiled, a horrible imitation of kindness that made Severus uneasy. "Now, we all have something to discuss today. The Potter boy, sources tell me, is missing." 

Severus' undead heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, but a quirked brow was his only response to Voldemort's revelation.

+++

Harry's eyes flicked to the door. A mixture of apprehension, fear, and relief settled in the pit of his stomach as he heard someone fiddling with the door knob. With a resounding click, the door creaked open, and Draco Malfoy stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the room eagerly before settling on Harry and the bed.  
Malfoy's eyes widened in shock.

"Potter?" he cried, and Harry struggled against his chains.

"Shut up, he'll hear you," Harry hissed, not wanting Snape to return.

"Snape's gone right now," Malfoy said, his eyes still disbelieving. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Harry grumbled. "Just get me out of here, will you?"

Malfoy was silent for a moment, before stepping over towards Harry. There was something in Malfoy's eyes that disturbed him slightly, but he couldn't pinpoint it. He didn't care, just as long as he escaped from Snape's clutches.

Malfoy's gaze raked up Harry's body, stopping at his throat and the bite marks that were present there.

"Someone been snacking on you, Potter?" Malfoy said tauntingly, before fishing out a pin from his pocket and picking the lock.

Harry glared at him, and his mouth opened to protest, but no words came out.

It didn't take Malfoy long, and soon Harry was rubbing his sore wrists and staring up at the boy, not sure how to thank him.

"Come on," Malfoy said, tugging on Harry none-too-gently, "I know somewhere safe we can go."

"My wand—"

"Its okay, Potter; we'll find it later. Snape's bound to be back soon, and I'd rather not be here when he returns."

Harry nodded in agreement, then stopped. "You can't use magic, though."

"My father is influential and important, Potter. I can Apparate, especially during emergencies. I think this counts. Let's go."

Harry grabbed onto Malfoy's arm, glancing around the room one last time. Some unexplainable feeling rose inside of him, and he felt that he wouldn't know what to do with himself now that he was actually free.

+++

Harry clung to Malfoy as they Apparated. It was a surreal experience, the whirlwind of colors coalescing into solid shapes as they landed.  
Harry blinked and took in his surroundings. Dismay pooled in the pit of his belly as he recognized where they had Apparated. They were in the middle of Malfoy Manor, and Death Eaters were everywhere. Harry scanned the crowd for any sign of Snape, but he didn't see him at all.

Malfoy let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Did you really think that I'd let you get away, Potter? Bringing you to the Dark Lord will bring my family honor again. Your precious professor is going to be in so much trouble…"

"Good, Draco. Very good!" Bellatrix crooned, as she dug her claws into Harry's left shoulder. Malfoy let go of Harry abruptly, and he backed away, turning towards his father.  
A slow smile spread on Lucius Malfoy's face.

"Crucio!"

Harry screamed as excruciating pain racked his body, the tremors echoing in his veins and seeping into his mind.

Bellatrix cackled in mirth. "Ickle Potty doesn't have anybody to save him now," she taunted.

It was so ironic, he thought, that he escaped from one captor only to fall into the clutches of another, more-deranged psychopath.

The circle of Death Eaters that had converged around Harry shifted as a man stepped forward, wand in hand. Harry recognized him from the battle at the Ministry of Magic, but the pain that encompassed his world distracted him so that it made it hard to recall the man's name.

"Imperio!"

Harry braced himself for the curse this time, but fear crept into his mind all the same. He was weak from torture; did he have it in him to fight against the Imperius?  
Kiss my boots  
The man's voice echoed throughout his head, compelling him to move, and Harry grimaced as he fought against the spell.

KISS MY BOOTS

The voice was insistent, but Harry stood his ground.

"I tire of these childish games," a reedy voice hissed into the crowd of Death Eaters. Immediately, the Death Eaters split, and Harry fell on his knees in exhaustion as Voldemort glided towards him fluidly.

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. How feeble and weak he appears now. I wonder why I couldn't find you," Voldemort hissed. "Where did you find him, Draco?"  
Draco paused, looking almost forlorn before glancing at Harry and then looking down at his feet. "I found him at Snape's, my Lord. He had Potter locked up in a room upstairs—"  
"Severus?" Voldemort's red eyes widened in shock, before he grabbed the side of Harry's face and tipped his head to the side. Harry could feel his face burn with shame and humiliation as Voldemort lightly touched the bite marks on the side of his throat.

"So, we have a traitor in our midst. It seems that dear Severus was keeping the Potter boy all to himself and thought not to share his spoils with the rest of us."  
Voldemort fixed his gaze on the Carrows. "Go to Hogwarts. Severus is there. Bring him to me now."

The Carrows bowed their heads before Dissaparrating. Voldemort shoved Harry towards the group of Death Eaters.

"Take our little Chosen One into the dungeons. I have a few plans for him," Voldemort hissed.

Hands scrambled for him, pushing and pulling as he struggled weakly. The Cruciatus curse had taken a lot of fight out of him, and he tried in vain to escape their clutches. Soon, he found himself in the dungeons, Death Eaters kicking at his prone body as he lay on the dank floor.

+++

Severus heard a knock on the Headmaster's office door, and he opened it to see the Carrow siblings leering at him.

"The Dark Lord wishes to have an audience with you," Alecto smirked, and Severus glared at her.

"I did not feel my Mark burn," Severus answered. "Why does he wish to see me?"

Amycus snorted, and Alecto elbowed him sharply. "You'll see. Meet at Malfoy Manor. It's very urgent."

Severus let out a sigh. "Very well." He grabbed his traveling cloak and a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

When he emerged from the fireplace, Voldemort was there, along with several other Death Eaters.

Voldemort made his way to Severus, and an uneasy tingle traveled down his spine.

"Severus, oh, Severus," the Dark Lord began. "I never expected you to be so greedy."

Greedy? What—

Severus' undead heart beat a little faster. Harry. Oh god, Harry…the wards….

He glanced over to see a familiar blond brat standing next to Voldemort.

"I think there is something you need to see, Severus," the Dark Lord said, and Severus' body felt numb as he followed the Dark Lord down into the dungeons.

There, lying on the dirty floor, was Harry. He looked rather worse for wear, as if he had a few Crucios dealt his way, and his skin was littered with bruises. Severus felt anger, fiery and hot, surge inside of him before he swallowed it down. It burned his insides, and he wanted nothing more than to murder every single one of them, spill their blood all over the dungeon floor, and rip them apart so they couldn't touch his Harry ever again.

 

Harry's eyes opened slowly, and his gaze met Severus'.

"Snape," he whispered, and Severus took a step towards him. Suddenly, pain shot through Severus' body, and he grunted softly as his knees hit the floor.  
"Crucio," Voldemort hissed again, and Severus winced but made no sound as the pain melted his bones. "You will not touch Harry Potter," the Dark Lord said haughtily. "He is not yours. Take Severus, and chain him up," he snapped at Greyback.

At that very moment, Severus forgot about Lily. He forgot about Dumbledore's plan, and everything that they had worked for to bring the Dark Lord down. As soon as Fenrir Greyback laid a hand on his shoulder, his control broke.

With an angry roar, Severus stood up, grabbed Greyback and threw him against the dungeon wall. He could hear bones shattering.

Voldemort's eyes widened, and he raised his wand again.

"You dare defy me?"

Severus let out a deep. loud growl as the Death Eaters backed away. Obviously, they did not want to face a vampire and a powerful wizard to boot. Severus pulled his wand out from his robes and braced himself for another blast of Crucio.

As expected, the curse hit him full force, and he fell to the ground once more, his body shaking as the Dark Lord kept the curse going, not letting up until Severus was writhing silently on the ground in pain.

+++

Harry stared in horror as Snape shook under the effects of the Cruciatus. Snape had always seemed to be so invincible, especially now that Harry knew he was a vampire, and it was unnerving to see him reduced to this creature that was quaking on the floor in pain. Still, he uttered no noises, and Harry could see that Voldemort was getting frustrated. As much as Harry resented his the man, it still gave him some satisfaction to see Voldemort's anger.

Voldemort lowered his wand. "Vampires are tougher than they appear," he said snidely, as the rest of the Death Eaters laughed. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Snape, who looked so vulnerable on the floor, his eyes shut tightly as Voldemort lifted his wand once more.

Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop!" he cried, and all of the Death Eaters' heads snapped to attention at the sound of his cracking voice. Voldemort chuckled darkly.

"You wish to save this man? He isn't even human."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, and Snape's eyes opened and focused on Harry, the black eyes widening slowly. "Leave him alone."

"You care for him," Voldemort said with mirth in his voice, as the rest of the Death Eaters laughed mockingly around him. "How…utterly sweet. Whoever would have imagined?"

"I don't—" Harry began, but he looked on at Snape's prone body lying there on the dirty floor, and something in him broke.

A wicked smile played across Voldemort's snake-like features.

"Oh, well, Severus, let's see just how much the boy cares."

Harry swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh, well, Severus, let's see just how much the boy cares."

Severus' head snapped up and he snarled, his fangs bared and teeth clicking as the Dark Lord cast Cruciatus Harry's way. The boy cried out from the floor facing Severus, trembling violently, and Severus could see what they did to him, could see how hard Harry was trying to fight it—

"Please. Please stop."

The Dark Lord raised his wand mid-Crucio, and turned to Severus. "What's this? Severus, it's not like you to beg. I haven't heard you beg in quite a long time, many years in fact—Crucio!" and Harry was quaking on the floor, his limbs twitching like broken tree branches and Severus couldn't stand the sight of it. After what seemed like hours even though it was only for a few moments, the Dark Lord lifted the curse. "Ah, yes, Severus, I do enjoy watching you beg for someone's pitiful life. Especially one of dirty blood."

No. No—

"I remember the first time you begged just like it was yesterday," the Dark Lord began, and Severus felt dark anger pool in his gut like poison. "Such a pretty, foolish girl, that Lily Potter. Such talent and bravery, for a disgusting Mudblood."

 

Harry stirred, his weary eyes opening and focusing on Severus.

"Harry..."

"Oh? Severus didn't tell you, Harry? He didn't tell you how he loved your mother, how he desired her so? Ah, of course he didn't. Harry tastes just like her I suppose, Severus?"  
Severus blanched. "That's not what—it's not—no..." 

Confusion played on Harry's pained features. He stared at Severus as if he were the only one in a room full of Death Eaters. 

"Snape? What...what does he mean?" Harry croaked, his hoarse voice a pitiful, heart-wrenching sound that twisted the inside of Severus' chest. 

Severus was at a loss for words. He could feel his usually keen vision wavering, the room spinning out of control. The last thing he heard before another curse was flung his way was "Take the boy upstairs. I'll deal with him myself."

+++

Harry didn't have the energy to fight the Death Eaters off as they scrambled to lift him up and pull him out of the cellar. His glasses were askew and all his blurred vision could see was a black figure slumped on the dungeon floor in defeat. 

'He loved my mum. He desired her.'

Was it true? Did Voldemort make this all up? But Harry remembered Snape's face, his expression when Voldemort spoke of it, and—

Harry felt vomit rising in his throat as they reached the top of the stairs, Death Eaters dragging him on the floor and tossing him down. He tried to swallow it down, but he couldn't—sickness from the torture and Voldemort's revelation had taken its toll. He vomited on one nameless Death Eater's robes and dry heaved as he struggled to lift himself up on his knees.

"Ugh! Revolting 'lil bastard just sicked up on me!" The Death Eater cuffed him hard in the side of his skull. 

Harry barely felt the blow. 

Voldemort emerged from the cellar just as Harry fixed his glasses on his nose. He stared up at Voldemort blankly, waiting for the inevitable Avada Kedavra. But it never came.  
"I'm sure you thought I would kill you, boy." Voldemort nudged Harry's knee with his bare foot and Harry shuddered with disgust. "No, you don't deserve a swift death. Not yet. There are other ways to destroy you, of course. Draco!" 

Malfoy avoided Harry's hate fueled gaze, but before he looked away Harry could have sworn that Malfoy looked remorseful.

"Such a good, loyal boy, Draco. You have proven yourself well." 

"I'm proud of you, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice low. "Who would have known that Severus was such a traitor?"

"I don't know," Malfoy muttered. "I need to go to my room."

"Let's show the praised Boy-Who-Lived to his quarters, yes? I think he deserves a bit of rest before the real fun begins. Narcissa!"

Malfoy's mother came forward silently, and Harry speared her with a poisonous glare. She didn't avert her eyes, unlike her son.

"Why don't you take him? Ward the doors so he can't escape, cast a Petrificus on him, it is no matter to me."

"Yes, My Lord," Narcissa Malfoy bowed her head. "Come, Potter."

Harry didn't budge.

"Potter..." she warned, and Bellatrix hopped up the cellar stairs. 

"Ooh Cissy, let me play! Just look at him, all that fire's been snuffed right out—"

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa snapped. "I'll take him to one of the spare rooms. Just...go."

Bellatrix said nothing, but she watched eagerly as her sister cast Petrificus Totalus on Harry, and his already sore limbs turned wooden and still. At least he wasn't shaking anymore. 

+++

Harry lost count of how many hours or days he was left alone in the spare bedroom. It was much nicer and more fancy than Snape's room, but it seemed colder and more distant somehow. 

They watered and fed him, water and scraps of bread crust. Harry had tried to break through the wards, but it did no good. 

Suddenly there were shuffling noises coming down the hallway. Harry struggled back to the bed, his body still wracked with pain. 

"Oh, won't he be so pleased when he sees!"

Bellatrix. 

The door opened and Harry glared as Bellatrix entered the room with two large Death Eaters flanking either side. 

"Well come on now! I'm a busy woman, haven't got all night!"

The Death Eaters grabbed Harry and pulled him roughly to his feet. They walked down the stairs to the main room, and the cellar door opened with a creak.   
Harry gasped. 

Snape's eyes were completely red, even in the dim light Harry could see them. The irises, the whites of his eyes, all drowned in crimson. He snarled wordlessly, and then stopped, his head snapping up to where Harry stood. His face was pale and he looked emaciated. A low, guttural growl made it's way up Snape's throat and Harry felt a grip of ice cold fear envelop him. 

"Oh, looks like ikkle lil' Pottie came to the wrong conclusion!" Bellatrix sang. "You're not on the menu tonight, boy. But someone else is!"

Harry could hear sobbing from behind him, and he turned his head. A girl was brought forward—oh god, she was in Hogwarts robes—her tie—she was a Slytherin—Tracey...Tracey...Tracey Davis. Harry had Potions class with her. What—

The girl was brought forward, and she collapsed next to where Harry stood. "What are you going to do with me? I promise, my family—my family—"

"A Half-blood dares to speak to me?" Bellatrix bent down to slap the girl across the face. Tracey's sobs grew louder. 

Bellatrix heaved Tracey up and moved her to the top of the stairs. "Oh, Sevvie!"

Snape seemed to be incapable of speech, and Harry felt—god he felt sick, and horrible, and he felt pity for this man, who had the misfortune of being Turned into a monster. His bloody red eyes were wild and crazed. 'It must have been days, then,' Harry thought. They must have been starving Snape

for awhile. 

Bellatrix fished out her knife and slashed the side of Tracey's arm. Tracey cried out in pain. Snape's feral eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. Harry could hear the sharp inhale and Snape's ragged breathing.

Bellatrix pushed Tracey roughly down three steps, and Tracey stumbled, before she looked down to see Snape. "Professor? Professor! Professor Snape, please help me, please, they took me from Hogwarts I just—"

"Tracey NO!" Harry screamed, and Belltrix greeted his cheek with a stinging blow. 

"Professor—"

Snape lunged. Harry tried to look away but he wasn't fast enough as Bellatrix cast a Petrificus on him, forcing him to watch as Snape tore into Tracey's throat, ripping through skin and sinew. His throat moved greedily, his jaws ripping off chunks of Tracey's flesh, Tracey shrieking and her body snapping violently, trying to push him away. As her struggles grew weaker, Snape shoved her to the ground and snapped her head back, revealing a gory mess of blood and—only a few string of flesh remained on her neck. Snape moved down her body as Tracey twitched one last time before falling silent. The only sounds Harry could hear now were gulps and swallows, chunks of flesh being rent from breaking bones—a feast for a starving vampire. He couldn't move, couldn't look away—

"Oh ikkle Potter, just imagine! That'll be you soon enough. Such a fitting end, don't you think?"

"Bella."

The spell melted off of Harry and he collapsed, the door finally being slammed shut. He could still hear Snape...

Narcissa came up from behind them. "Let me take Potter back to his room."

"But—"

"The Dark Lord has other plans for him yet. We don't want to weaken his spirit anymore tonight."  
"Fine," Bellatrix snapped like a petulant child. 

Harry followed Narcissa silently. There was no need to cast a spell on him anymore. Harry didn't want to hear or see anymore, he wanted to get as far away as he could.  
Narcissa guided him to his room. She was the only one with him, and Harry stared up at her. He had no more emotions to give to these people. He vowed to never let them break him. God only knew what they would do next.

Harry watched blankly as Narcissa stepped into the room and warded the door behind them. 

"Severus is an old friend of mine."

Harry was silent. 

"I've known him since my Hogwarts years. He was quite peculiar then, jaded too. But some part of him, a part that's hidden...it's kind, and generous."   
Harry looked at Narcissa now, his eyes hazy.

"We made the Unbreakable Vow, you know. To protect Draco, to save him. Severus is very dear to me."

Harry said nothing, but he still stared at Narcissa. He would have felt more, but he had no more feelings to give. 

"I do owe Severus a great deal. He is my dearest friend. Try to sleep. I'll get you a cup of tea with a dose of Dreamless Sleep."

Harry watched as Narcissa left the room and closed the door behind her, whispering the wards that protected the room.

He didn't know if this was a ruse, or if she was as genuine as she sounded. 

Maybe there was hope for them yet.


End file.
